Hush
by danceforevergirl
Summary: "I had been reading when it happened..." Albus Severus Potter was in a car accident, and he woke up in the hospital with no idea why everything was so quiet. No one was making any noise, and he couldn't seem to speak. ASP/SM Friendship/Romance Multi-chapter fic, newest chapter coming in a few days.
1. Something To Make Note Of

I had been reading when it happened. Sitting in the passenger seat, trying to tune out the sound of my father's favorite news show on the radio, which was going on about stocks and "how to jumpstart your small business". The book was Catcher in the Rye, and Rose had lent me her copy over winter break after much begging and pleading. I was right about into the middle of the novel, when Holden was getting into fights with prostitutes and chatting with nuns, and I had been reading the same sentence over and over, constantly being interrupted by my father, butting in to ask how school was, and whether or not I had found a girlfriend yet. His pathetic attempts at conversation were starting to annoy me, so I only buried my nose deeper into the book and willed him to shut up. It worked, and that was when he reached over to turn up the volume dial on the car stereo. He lost his control on the wheel, new to driving in the muggle world, and the car skid off the road. All I remember from that point on is the frozen tree, spinning closer and closer each split second, and the dashboard, coming up to hit me on the forehead.

When I woke up, I was expecting to see white, lots of white, like in the muggle movies where the heroine floats up out of their body and looks down on their hospital room. Instead, the first thing I saw when my eyes fluttered open, was lime green. Lots of lime green figures bustling around silently. I sat up with a jolt and thought for a half second that this was the time. I was in Heaven. Heaven or something. Things were much too quiet. But there was my father, lips moving quickly, hands gesturing animatedly at one of the bright figures. Dizzy, a blurred hand gently pushed me back down onto the uncomfortable bed and my eyes fell shut one more.

When I awoke the second time, things were still surreally silent. There was a heavy pounding in my head, and I felt a dip in the bed near my feet. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw my father leaning over me, black hair unkempt, tears in his usually bright eyes. I held out my shaking hand and he took it, squeezing it between the two of his lightly. It was the worst I had ever seen him, eyes puffy, nose chapped, lips deep red. Neither of us said a word; we only sat there and wept inside. I don't know how long we stayed that way, but it had been a while when I first parted my lips and spoke.

"What happened?"

Only, I didn't make any sound. Everything was still. I didn't break the silence; I didn't hear my voice ring out in the crisp sterile room. My eyes widened as I raised my hand tenderly up to my throat and tried again to speak. There were vibrations, and a faint echo in my head, only, no sound. My father's eyebrows furrowed together at my action, and his lips moved, but there were no words reaching my ears. My eyes began to water slightly and he stood quickly, running to the door and pulling it open, seemingly calling for someone. Only a few seconds passed before a Healer ran in and was confronted suddenly, pelted with what I could only assume were harsh, desperate words. Panting and on the verge of tears, my father went on as the healer tried to shush him up so she could get a word in. I tried to understand what they were saying, but they were speaking too fast, and I just lost myself in tears instead.

He must have heard me, because my father strode back over and sat down again, clasping my hand in his comfortingly. He spoke silently, obviously moving his lips more than necessary. I tried to read them as he spoke the same pattern over and over slowly.

"Can… you…"

There was another word that I couldn't make out, but I got the picture and just choked out a small no. The tears fell all at once from his eyes and he buried his face in his hands, still holding mine tight. The Healer walked up cautiously and took a seat in the swivel chair next to the bed, clutching her clipboard tightly to her chest. She pulled out her wand from her pocket and etched out letters into the air.

_Mr. Potter, you were in a car accident yesterday. Your vehicle crashed into a tree after skidding on the ice. Your side of the car took most of the impact, and you received a sharp blow to the head. You were knocked out, and we believed you to have a mild concussion, but the effects are, unfortunately, worse than we expected._

Her script was so loopy and sloppy I could barely read the words. But, I did, and replied somberly, feeling the words in my throat.

"But, there's a way to fix it, right? You're Healers. You know how."

She swallowed and raised her wand again, adding another note.

_Your sense of hearing may come back in due time, and it might not. But there is no known solution to your ailment. You will have to learn how to cope with your situation, at least for the time being._

My father looked up at me sadly, having heard the words spoken aloud by the Healer as I read. He murmured something over and over, which I slowly recognized to be my name. _Albus. _The healer took that as her cue to leave, and the only thing left of her were the slowly fading golden letters. Swallowing his tears and pinching the bridge of his nose, my father reached over to pick up his wand, which was lying on the hospital nightstand. Raising it, he scratched out his own words in a deep blue.

_I'm so sorry. It's my fault._

"No." I replied, but he only shook his head to himself and added more, the previous letters dripping away like candle wax.

_I wasn't paying attention to the road. I shouldn't have been driving anyways. I thought it would be okay. And now, this happened. _

"It's not your fault. It was… fate or something- okay?"

My voice was breaking and it took everything I had not to burst out in tears again. I had no idea where things were going to go. I couldn't read lips; I couldn't do that hand stuff… I couldn't hear. That was the worst revelation. I couldn't hear. They said it might come back, but the Healer didn't look optimistic. I was stuck like this, probably forever.

_We can do this, okay? Together we'll figure it out. _

That was all it took for my flimsy barrier to break. I fell apart, and for that minute I was my father's little boy again, running to him for help with everything. Luckily for me, he was there, and opened his arms to me. I gladly sat up and fell into them, allowing myself to be held tight to his chest. He loosened his grip soon though, and I lay back down, recognizing the constant throbbing pain in my temple for the second time that day, and catering to it by raising my hand up and massaging my forehead tenderly.

_I should probably leave you for a while. You need some sleep, and your Mum is probably worried. I'll be right outside if you need me._

I nodded, and my father stood and walked out, looking back quickly before shutting the door slowly as not to make too much of a sound. As if it mattered. I cried myself to sleep, and when I woke up, I was alone, with only the moonlight streaming through the window to keep me company.

"Dad?" I said, lonely, repeating the word until I was yelling. "Dad?"

The door opened slowly, and I cut myself off. A glimpse of red hair and she was there, my little sister. She shut the door in the same fashion my father had before her, and walked up, sitting in his place. She didn't say anything for a minute, just sat there for a moment before whispering quietly, looking down at her lap.

"Look up at me, Lily," I said, reaching towards her chin and tilting it up so I could see her lips. "Now speak."

She only bit her lip though, and looked at me with slight disbelief. She repeated the phrase, and I only caught a small bit.

"Mum… Dad…. down… "

I interrupted her. "Can you do… the wand thing?" She shook her head somberly and bit her lip. Then, she looked me in the eyes, speaking slowly. I didn't even have to glance at her lips to tell she was apologizing.

"Don't."

She stood and said nothing, moving her lips one last time in a phrase I recognized instantly.

_I love you._

Taken by shock at the sudden display of affection, I didn't say anything. She seemed to understand though, and only nodded as if she could tell everything I wanted to say to her, James, Mum and Dad. And at that, she stepped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar so I could see every lime green flash as it passed

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I wanted to rewind and play it all back, just so I could get a handle on my life. On what exactly ruined it. But I couldn't. So, I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to sleep.

…

The breakfast at St. Mungo's was shit. The oatmeal was way too solid, and the yogurt tasted like spoilt milk. I didn't complain though, it was food. The tray had been there when I woke up, and I hadn't asked any questions, just ate. No one came in to talk with me, and to tell you the truth, I was lonely. I wanted my Mum sitting by my side, telling me it'll all be okay, and my Dad holding my hand. They were gone though, probably sleeping in the waiting room outside with their vending machine dinners from last night. They'd spent the night. I could feel it. My father would never leave me, no matter how many times the Healers reassured him I would be safe and sound in the morning.

I stared up at the ceiling absentmindedly after I'd finished my mediocre meal, and quickly looked down as the door opened slowly. Everyone seemed to creak open doors cautiously, acting as if they were afraid of startling the patients, triggering some sort of wild panic attack. I expected the poorly chopped black locks of my father, but instead it was a healer, a different one then had originally broken the news to me. This one was tall, and handsome, powerfully built. He swiftly pulled out his wand, having been alerted of my condition. In deep red words he spelled out:

_Mr. Potter, you have a visitor. A young blonde boy. He's requested to see you._

"Let him in."

I automatically thought of my best friend, Thomas Wood. My father or James or someone must have flooed for him. I sat up in bed as the healer ushered in a less built, taller boy, who I recognized at once as Scorpius Malfoy. I'd seen him in passing every once and a while, and we'd never really talked, considering we were in different houses, I Gryffindor and he Ravenclaw. I had nothing against him unlike my father, but all I knew of him were the stories my uncle would tell about his dad around the fire at Christmastime.

He was dressed in a blue hoodie and dark wash jeans, looking much more casual than he normally did at school. His hair wasn't slicked back either, instead, gently tousled and the perfect balance between put-together and messy. He strode forward, not acting at all like the rest of the people, healers and family, who would normally take slow steps towards me, afraid they'd become contaminated. He quickly took a seat in one of the chairs by my bed, and pulled a small book out of his sweatshirt pocket, placing it on my bed. I could tell he didn't know what to do, as he only stared down at his lap. So, I prompted him quietly. "Can you do that thing, where you write with your wand?" He nodded and pulled his wand out from his inside pocket, hesitating for a second before writing.

_The book. It's on Sign Language. I researched it, and this is the kind used here in London. This book covers the basic alphabet and signs. I'm sorry if it's…. _He paused. _Insensitive._

I looked up, a bit shocked by the gesture. "It's not. Thank you." At that he lifted up his hands and moved them through the air quickly, spelling something out. Something I couldn't understand. So I only followed the movements and nodded until he stopped a few seconds later. I didn't know what to say. If that was sign language, and I was pretty sure it was, then he had learned some for me. Which was…. strange for someone I never spoke to.

Picking up his wand, he scratched out words and smirked.

_You look lost._

I laughed silently at the shimmering blue words. "I am. What was that?"

_I said, "Hello Albus," in sign language._

His grammar was impeccable, even in writing, and he had a desperate air about him that still managed to remain chilly. It was funny, the way he came here all of the sudden, uninvited, wanting to visit me, despite not knowing me outside of class. I debated whether or not to say anything, and decided just to see where the conversation took us.

"Where are my parents?"

_Downstairs in the lobby. Your brother is throwing a fit. _

"About what?"

_You. He's worried. Apparently they just told him. _

"But-"

_He's angry with your father. He tried to hex him._

"Why would he do that?"

Scorpius added words in long, elegant script.

_You know why._

And I did. My father was the one driving when it happened. He was the one who reached over to the radio. He was the one who crashed into that tree. He's the one who made me…. deaf. I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment before glittering letters distracted me once more.

_I know we haven't really talked…_

"Ever."

_Ever. And I just want to let you know that… I'm here, if you need anything. I know how frustrating it all must be. I just want to help. _

"Why?"

His brow furrowed and slowly relaxed.

_Because I owe you. _

"For what?"

_Everything. My father. _I tried to cut him off, but he continued. _I just thought I should offer a hand, if you want it. Feel free to kick me to the curb. You have no reason to trust me. _

And I realized I didn't. I'd never talked to this boy outside of today. I'd never worked with him outside of class. I'd never been within five feet of him outside of school. We were two different planets, floating around two different orbits, having no time to stop for anyone or anything. But now, he was stopping. He was offering me a hand, in friendship, or partnership, or whatever. The question was whether or not to accept it.

I'd need as much help as I could get.

"Okay. Thanks." I spoke confidently, trying not to let my caution express itself.

_I'll come by tomorrow. When do you get to leave? _

I realized no one had bothered mentioning that to me.

"Um, probably in the morning. It- it might not be the best idea for you to come over to my house, so… I'll send you an owl or something. Okay?"

At that, Scorpius looked down to his lap and nodded softly, evidently a bit upset about my bringing up the fact we could never _really _be friends. I only smiled softly though, and patted his shoulder awkwardly. He looked back up and swallowed, looping letters into the air again.

_Yeah. I'd better go. Your father wouldn't want me here. _

He didn't say anything more, only stood, letting my hand fall from his shoulder where it had lingered too long. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip, turning and stealthily exiting the room, locking the door open for the same Healer, who stepped in.

Red letters again.

_Mr. Potter, we have just received notice that you will be leaving the facility tonight and going home with your family after a few more tests. _

I nodded and he stepped out again, leaving the room eerily still. Not just a quiet still like it was already, an empty still. I was lonely. So, I picked up the small volume Scorpius had left me and leafed through the thick pages, studying letters and words I couldn't understand for the life of me. How was I supposed to speak with my hands? I was already a fool enough with words. And was I just supposed to be able to read lips overnight? Not everyone could write with their wands. Sleeping was easier, so I set down the book and fell back, shutting my eyes.

I dreamed of floating and falling, and kissing a long haired blonde in the dark, whose locks shot back into her head like a vacuum, and tousled into a beautiful mess. I buried my nose into it and inhaled, the scent of cologne and dandruff shampoo filling my nostrils. It was amazing, and I lost myself in that scent, holding her figure close to my chest and not feeling in the least bit confused as it changed into a broader, stronger figure that felt solid against me. When I woke I could still smell the fresh scent, even as my father stood over me and smiled, taking my hand and helping me up out of bed. The air was chilly and I could feel the breeze from the window through my thin papery hospital gown, but I only shivered for a second and followed my father out the door, into a bathroom where he helped me dress, even though the pounding in my head wasn't so bad and I could have done it myself.

When we exited and headed down to the lobby, various Healers and receptionists waving and wishing us well, I saw my family, sitting anxiously on a bench near the sliding glass doors. Upon seeing me, my mother sat still, clutching Lily tight to her chest, but James ran up quickly and wrapped his arms around me in a fierce hug. It felt good, having him near me, close enough to touch, to love. The shuddering of his shoulders penetrated me to the bone, chilling me and freezing my lungs for a split-second before he pulled away and wiped his eyes, trying to act cool and nonchalant once more, doing a shitty job of it, as his eyes were red and puffy, swollen from a day's worth of tears.

"I'm okay James."

But my eyes were starting to swell too. The tears crept up and I couldn't hold them back, embracing James once more to muffle what I'm sure were terrible sobs of loss. I felt his breath in my ear as he whispered to me, words I could never hear. He went on for a few precious seconds, telling me things he had forgotten I couldn't understand. I did though. James loved me. So, for his own good, I pulled away and hugged my mother awkwardly before taking my father's hand again and stepping out of the shining lobby, into a new world.

…

I whined as my father tucked me into bed, trying to wriggle from his grasp as he pulled up the covers to my throat.

"Dad!"

He only smiled and let out what I could only assume was a hearty laugh. After all, my father had always had a deep voice, and to me, it was comforting. When I was really young, he would read me stories from a huge red story book. There was a mixture of muggle and wizarding tales, written in a careful hand by my Aunt Hermione, with detailed drawings by my mother. My favorite was this one story about a girl. She was honest and kind, and always helped others. One day, she helped an old woman, who gave her a gift. "And pearls fell from her lips in place of words."

I loved that story. And now, I would never hear it again. Not from my father's lips anyways. And I accepted that. Sort of.

My father's lips moved in a sequence I knew meant, "Good night." He patted my arm and stood, turning to leave. I spoke up quickly though.

"Could I maybe have some parchment Dad? I forgot to owl Thomas, and it's bothering me."

He nodded and left, returning with a scroll and quill, biting his lip nervously, as if he were afraid I would spill the ink and make a terrible mess. I looked at him pointedly though, and he left, looking back at me worriedly before shutting the door. I dipped my quill in the inkwell and began to etch out sentences, the words coming easy.

_Scorpius:_

_So, I'm back home now, but my father has me on close watch. I might not be able to leave the house for a few days. But look. In the hospital, if you didn't mean what you said, it's okay. I'll be fine. I still have your book though, and school starts back up in a few weeks, right after the New Year. I was just thinking you might want it back, in case it was from the library or something. Christmas is in four days, and if you still want to meet up again, I can find you somewhere. It's always a huge thing at my Uncle's, but my father will let me stay home if I play up the pain a bit. The swelling on my head's gone down, but it's still pretty bad though, so he should fall for it. You could come over Christmas Day, I mean, if you don't have plans. Maybe after your family dinner. _

_Just, reply whenever. If you want to._

_ Al._

I folded the letter quickly and tied it with a bit of string, calling my owl, Julie, over and attaching it to her leg, whispering.

"Bring this to Scorpius. Malfoy Manor."

She nodded almost unnoticeably, and flew off through my window, flapping her tawny wings against the moonlight. Home was a good place to be I realized. With family, and friends. Where I wasn't alone in the world. Where I could at least try, try to be me again. Albus.

I turned out the light and set down my quill, lying back in bed and trying to sleep, failing miserably. I had just started to drift off when Julie flew through the window again swiftly, perching on my dresser after dropping a small envelope on my bed. Groaning and switching my light back on, I picked the letter up, broke the still slightly wet seal, and pulled out a piece of parchment.

_Albus:_

_That's fine. I never have Christmas plans. I can be over at six. I'll walk._

_Scorpius_

I laughed at the brevity of it, but nodded to myself and turned off my light once more, drifting off right away into a sleep that was somewhat absent of tall blondes and cologne.


	2. Of Dukes and Malfoy Boys

**AN: Thanks for all the kind reviews! I know the wait was longer than expected, but I hope this chapter was well worth it! It should answer a lot of your questions. :)**

My mother still hadn't talked to me three days later. Christmas Eve. She'd call me out to dinner, and kiss my forehead before I went to sleep, but she didn't come and spend hours with me on the porch like my brother did every night. It was as if she didn't want to believe it. Like she wanted to stay away from me, in hopes that I would get better while her back was turned. She didn't understand that I wasn't broken. I was still Albus. Albus Severus Potter, fourth year Gryffindor and star student.

I sat on my bed, studying a page of the small book Scorpius had left me. It was actually not too hard to sign, and I'd learned to sign my full name, working on Scorpius's, when the door opened suddenly and my mother stepped in. She looked impatient, and her eyebrows were raised in a look that I knew meant business. She stared at me for a second, as if expecting me to say something, then opened her mouth and began on a lecture that I could only sit and wait out. She went on; rambling and shooting me pointed looks that screamed for me to explain myself. Her hair was slightly frizzy, and the apron she wore was hanging loose, marked with flour handprints.

I was afraid to interrupt, but I did, speaking quickly once she stopped for a breath.

"Mum. I can't hear you."

She froze, and her chest shook. Her hands fell to her sides and she walked up to me slowly, guiltily, like a young child who had done something they thought they could never be forgiven for. She sat down on my bed, avoiding my eyes. I cautiously uncrossed my legs, sitting next to her and reaching out a hand for her to take. She didn't though, and I set it on her leg, patting it absentmindedly, trying to comfort my mother as she wept.

"It's okay."

She only let out a deep sob that shook her chest, and buried her face in her hands. I reached up, embracing her tightly, and she turned to face me, still in my arms, tears chiseling their way down her cheeks. Maybe that was why she had such hollow cheekbones. From all the crying. She used to cry a lot when we were young. She still did. It was always something or another. She was depressed. Clinically depressed. She was diagnosed shortly after I was born. Father said that she never really got over the loss of the war. It took over her life. Her brother, her friends. She would have these visions, and wake up crying. Lily was always the first to run and help. James and I were too scared. We just lay there in our separate rooms and willed away the noises, like cowards.

I felt a tear slip out of my eye too, but I wiped it away and held my mother closer, until the shaking of her chest had gone down, and the tears were fading. I loosened my grip and slowly leaned back, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly.

"I love you Mum. It's not your fault."

She nodded and wiped her face, red and splotchy. Her hand quivering, she pulled her wand out of her apron pocket and wove it in the air, creating deep green letters.

_I need help in the kitchen. _

At that, she stood, still wiping at her eyes, and walked out, leaving my door open to follow her. I sighed and got up, throwing the book to the side and heading down the stairs to work on preparing whatever Christmas Eve dinner my mother had planned.

About two hours later, the dinner was ready, and the table set. I'd never been one for Christmas; I preferred winter as a whole, but even I was getting into the spirit. Our table had been covered by a deep red tablecloth, and at each place setting was a bright white plate. Holly hung from the stairs, and my father was over by the door, waving his wand and making mistletoe spin its way down from the ceiling. I smiled at my mother, and she returned the grin, though a bit halfheartedly. Gifts lay out underneath our Christmas tree, a huge thing we had gone out and picked a few weeks ago at a farm. It was majestic, and tall, decorated with gold and red baubles, a bright star on the top. For some reason, it sparkled more now than ever.

My mother brought over the last bowl, cranberry sauce, and opened her mouth, calling my sister and brother down for dinner. Suddenly, there was a rush. My brother came running down the stairs, bumping me, and my father sat down. Soon, Lily joined us, and everyone was trying to get my attention. I felt cornered, overwhelmed. There was nowhere I could go. So I took a piece of ham off of the platter in the center of the table, and poured some sauce over it.

Christmas Eve was one of the things my family didn't share. It was for us only. James, Lily, Albus, Ginny, and Harry. Our holiday. We went over to the Burrow for Christmas, but Christmas Eve and morning were ours. The quiet before the whirlwind. We could relax and sing, and just be a tight knit family. Father always went overboard with the tree, and Mum with the gifts. It was almost a tradition. But the dinner that year was awkward. Everyone else was talking, none too enthusiastically, and my mother was being unusually quiet. I was just trying to get by with nods and a "yeah" every once and a while.

No one thought to use their wand.

After dessert, a large treacle tart, I stood and announced my plans.

"I'm going to get my blanket."

My mother smiled softly and almost seemed… herself again. I quickly turned and walked up to my room to find my comforter. We would always sleep out on the couch by the Christmas tree. It was another one of the many traditions we had; James, Lily, and I. Coming back down, I lay out my blanket and pillow on the couch and cleared room for James and Lily on the floor, as we rotated couch space every year. I lay back, staring up at the Christmas tree, bright and glittering, until my siblings joined me and my parents snuck off to bed with a kiss to each of our foreheads. We slept in our clothes.

…

Christmas morning was bright, and I woke to my sister shaking me, trying to get me up. I cursed under my breath and sat up, looking down at Lily and her light red hair, sitting anxiously in her green pajamas, and James still knocked out on the ground. I wiped my eyes and swung my legs over the edge of the couch, kicking James lightly in the head.

"James, up. Christmas."

He woke much the same as I, grumpy and exhausted. But he looked over at the majestic tree, with its lights and parcels underneath, and smiled slowly, shaking off the last bit of sleep in his eyes. We all just sat there, captivated by the gorgeous tree, until I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. It was my parents, stalking down the stairs to wish us a good morning. Lily instantly stood and ran to them, pulling my mother down near the fireplace as my father summoned cups of coffee from the kitchen. I could see Lily eyeing the gifts underneath the tree, and my father nodded his consent, and passed us each a gift to start. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep. I just looked away though, and began tearing at wrapping paper.

Thirty minutes later, most of the shiny paper was scattered on the floor, and our presents were all being hoarded in their own piles. I hadn't gotten as much as last year, not that I minded. I was just the observational type, and I couldn't help but notice, etching out the numbers in my head. I had gotten a stack of dancing playing cards, a new spell book, a few pairs of socks, lavender scented lotion (no, that was Lily's), an empty journal (yeah right), and some other assorted things. I loved it all. It seemed to mean more now. I especially loved the cards. My father usually only chose us each one gift a year, and I could tell those were his. He knew I liked to watch things. Interactive toys and games never were really my thing. I used to spend a lot of my days watching this bird I had made of paper. It was my only friend before I went to Hogwarts. I could tell my father had had that bird in mind when he chose the cards. It was all in his smile as he handed the parcel to me.

There must have been a sound, because Lily suddenly whipped her head around, and her hair went flying around her face. Three bright red packages came shooting out of the floo, one landing in each of our laps. I smiled. The sweaters. I tore the paper off mine quickly and lifted up a pale blue woolen thing. Unfolding it, I saw the large "A" on the front, in a slightly deeper color that matched the stripes. I had always loved the Weasley sweaters. They were a symbol of us. Family. And so I grinned widely as I slipped mine on, stripping off my red pajama top to trade in. James was rolling his eyes at my father, and trying to hide the sweater from my mother, but her expression went steely and he grunted as he reluctantly pulled it on. Lily already had hers on, over her pajamas. I thought that was the end of the surprises; Lily had her pygmy puff, James his marbles set, I my cards. But my father stood and held up a finger for me to wait, as he quickly ran up the stairs and headed down slowly, holding something tenderly in his arms. He walked up to me and held it out cautiously.

I gasped. It was a furry puppy of some sort, golden all over and with a stupid smile on its face. "Mine?" My father nodded. I reached over and picked it up underneath the arms, holding it out and returning the dopey grin. I loved it. (Him, as a quick check showed.) His fur felt silky underneath my fingertips, and I held him close to my chest, relishing in the moment. The first thing that popped into my head after looking into the puppy's big brown eyes wasn't so surprising.

_Malfoy. He looked like a Malfoy. Duke Malfoy. The mussed up golden fur, blue collar, eyes. He reminded me of Scorpius. _

I decided.

"Duke. That's his name. Duke Mal- Potter."

My brother rolled his eyes and murmured something that looked like, "Dumb name." But I only looked back at Duke. My puppy. He struggled in my grip and I laughed, setting him on the ground and sitting down with him.

He promptly peed on the rug.

…

We played for a while, rolling around and fetching with a small toy my father had bought. He was sitting on the couch, watching us with a smile, as even James gave in and joined us in our rough-housing. Then, it was time to go, late afternoon, and my mother, who'd been secretly enjoying the spectacle, ushered us all to our rooms to dress. That was my chance, and I seized it, tapping her arm once James and Lily had scurried upstairs.

"Mum? I still don't feel very good, my head, and I think I just… need to rest today."

Her face shriveled into one of worry, pulling her wand out, the first anyone had bothered to do in the last day.

_Alone? Albus…_

"Mum. I'll be fine. And I have Duke."

At that she smiled a little and glanced to my father, who nodded his consent.

_Okay. But no jumping around. You need to rest. _

My face lit up, and I tried to hide my excitement, still a bit disappointed about the choice not to go to the Burrow.

"I promise."

She patted my shoulder and I made a move to recline back on the couch, Duke by my side. My siblings returned, dressed in their normal clothes, neither in their sweaters, and my parents ushered them out of the door. With a quick concerned look my way, my mother shut the door behind her and I could almost feel the crack as they all disapparated. They didn't take the car.

I sat there in silence for a while, watching. The clock hands moved around the wooden face slowly, and I followed them with my eyes until it was almost 5:00. I'd been alone for two hours, doing absolutely nothing. I felt as if I should get up, do something, so I headed up to my room, feeding Julie quickly and pulling up a pair of dark jeans, leaving on my blue sweater. It was a funny color for me, a Gryffindor. But as I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, I realized it looked nice on me, blending well with my black hair. I ran my fingers over my face, pausing at the stubble on my chin. It made me look significantly older, but didn't suit my face, and so I picked up a can of shaving cream and a razor, shaving, taking my time with each stroke. After all, I had nothing better to do, and I liked the smell. I smelt Amortentia at school once, in Potions, and it smelled like… dandruff shampoo and shaving cream and… cologne. Some cologne Thomas wore, that smelled fresh and clean. I'd smelt it somewhere else too. In that dream. The one where I was kissing the blonde in the dark. She smelt like that. Amazing.

I slathered on some aftershave and sighed, walking downstairs. I realized just how much I missed the sound of my feet clunking on the stairs. But, I guess the vibrations were enough, and I hurried down, picking up a chocolate frog Lily had gotten in her stocking and reclining on the couch. I opened it and looked at the card. Morgana. I had yet to get my father, but I had gotten my uncle Ron twice. It was still only 5:16, and the minutes were ticking by so slowly it was painful. So I loitered around the house, snacking on crisps and watching the clock until it was 5:58, and then stepping out onto the porch, sitting on the swing barefoot and hugging my knees to my chest. I watched for Scorpius, Duke flopped over underneath me. I rocked back and forth impatiently, until I saw a figure round the bend leading to the house, a blonde in jeans and a sweatshirt, a red one this time. He sauntered up, all good posture and silence. I exhaled and smiled softly at him, as he stepped up the porch steps. He didn't smile back, only stood by the swing awkwardly.

"Hello."

He bit his lip and took a small step closer to me; I set my feet down on the floor and picked Duke up, sitting him on my lap.

"He looks like a Malfoy huh?"

Scorpius smiled for the first time and pulled out his wand.

_He have a name?_

"Duke."

Scorpius stepped up and sat next to me, weighting down one end of the swing and evening out the way it rocked as I pushed it lightly with my feet.

_You read the book?_

"Yeah," I smiled, "I think I understand the basics now."

I raised my hands and signed out Scorpius's name quickly; he smiled and signed mine back.

_I read about sign names. There are these signs, instead of letters, for names. You take something about the person, and change it slightly. I thought about yours, and I just couldn't come up with anything, so I decided on A. _

He signed it out after setting his wand down, and smiled softly. I returned his grin, and signed an S, petting Duke's head softly. He struggled out of my grip though, and pounced onto Scorpius's lap, who laughed and smiled, scooting closer to me and holding him, ruffling his fur.

We both just sat there like that for a while, content. I still barely knew the boy, but he seemed like someone I could trust. There was this… energy exchange sitting there. I felt where he was coming from with everything. Approaching me, offering me a hand. It all had a purpose. He didn't hate me, nor did his father. They wanted a new start. After all, I'd gotten mine already, why shouldn't they? I spoke up.

"Could you help me? I mean, did you learn any new signs?"

He nodded and brought his fingers to his chin tightly, splaying them apart and pulling his hand away. He spelled out the letters B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L with his hands and I repeated the movement.

"Beautiful."

He smiled and signed another word in the same pattern; word, spelling, word, spelling. I caught on quickly, and in a short while, I had learned twenty or so new words. It was easy with Scorpius. After every spelling, he would look me in the eyes and give me this look, searching me for some form of understanding. So, I would give him a reassuring smile and he would continue. Soon, I grew tired though, and suggested we go for a walk. He agreed and I stood, walking down the porch steps, both Scorpius and Duke by my side. I headed down the snowy forest path that led away from the house, silently inspecting his appearance. His hair was mussed up, same as before, but the red sweatshirt went well with his hair color, and the jeans made him seem laid back and casual, the opposite of what I knew he actually was. It worked on him though.

I leaned over slightly as we continued walking, almost unnoticeably, inhaling his scent. It was strawberries, and shaving cream, and what I thought was AXE body spray. He smelled amazing. Tough, yet… sensitive almost, and like himself. Scorpius Malfoy. I don't know how I knew, having only talked to him twice, but it was just everything about him that fit into his scent. It was beautiful, the way all the different parts of him fell into place seamlessly. He looked up at me and I snapped out of it just in time to see him sign out the word "what" and gesture to my sweater. I smiled and played with its hem.

"It's a Weasley sweater," I said, signing any words that I knew as I spoke, "I get one every Christmas."

He smirked.

_Not your color. _

I laughed and lightly punched his arm. He joined in on the laughing, rubbing his arm dramatically, exaggerating the pain. He then caught his breath and signed quickly. It took me a second to connect the letters and signs together, but when I did I rolled my eyes and laughed again.

_Damn. _

"You better watch out. My punches are known to be fatal."

After we'd settled down and were both just walking again, he signed quickly, looking me in the eye.

_It looks nice._

I bit my lip and fiddled with the hem of my sweater once again. Everything was suddenly so real, like I had sobered up after a long high. I'd only been drunk once, when James had gotten his hands on some alcohol from Louis, and we'd drank together late night in the common room. I didn't like the taste much, but the fuzzy feeling, like the world was drawn in crayon, was nice. I felt like I could do anything. But later, when the drinks were long gone and we were done making stupid jokes by the fire, everything slid back into focus and the room was too still and cold. That's what it felt like in that moment, but I was too afraid to break the silence. So we both stood there awkwardly before I managed to mutter out a small "thanks".

I turned and began walking back quickly, but he jogged a few steps and caught up to me, whipping out his wand, not bothering to try and sign. Duke yapped at my feet.

_It was just a compliment. _

I didn't reply, just kept walking, keeping my hands shoved deep into my pockets.

"I know."

_Then, what's wrong? _

"Nothing."

I could tell he wasn't comfortable enough with me yet to protest, so he only looked down and tucked his wand away, walking beside me, his arm brushing against mine all the way back. I don't know why I was so put off by his comment, but it was something I wouldn't have expected him to say. And the cold, swooping feeling in my stomach had frozen me in place. I had a funny feeling about him, a sober feeling. I couldn't tell if I liked it or not.

I walked up the porch steps and turned back toward the blonde, looking him in the eye. He seemed tired, but still returned my gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry. It was nothing. I just had- a moment. Okay?"

He bit his lip and nodded.

"Why aren't you with your family anyways?"

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, signing what he could and mouthing the words along with it.

_I could ask you the same thing. _

I looked down at my watch nonchalantly and read the numbers, 9:03. My uncle Ron was probably on his last drink, and my siblings were probably listening to his ramblings about "old times". They would be back within the hour.

"It's getting dark."

He sighed, taking a step back.

_I'll owl. _

"Goodbye."

_Goodbye. _

I watched as he walked away, rounding the corner and disappearing behind the gate. I sat down on the porch swing and rocked it slowly. I liked Scorpius, he seemed like a good friend, witty. But there was this feeling about him. Like he could turn on you any moment. It was scary, the idea of it. So, I walked inside, carrying Duke, and switched on the stereo, popping my favorite CD out of its case and into the machine. Coldplay rang out and filled the room, but I couldn't hear the music, only feel the beat when I rested my fingers on the speaker, so I hummed to myself and lay back on the plush couch to sleep, cuddling up with my puppy.

_From the moment I wake, to the moment I sleep, I'll be there by your side; just you try and stop me. _

I dreamed again about the blonde and smoking cigarettes on the roof. The smoke filled my lungs and warmed my soul, and I stared down at the panels as the blonde wrapped her arm around me. She was strong, and her hair was short and gorgeous and… cologne. Cologne and strawberries and body spray. I coughed and shook off the strong figure, shuddering with realization. Standing, I took a running leap and jumped off the edge, falling in slow motion. My stomach twisted and I woke with a start, sitting up sharply as a pair of strong hands pushed me back down. Opening my eyes, I looked up to see James holding me down. When he saw my eyes open he relaxed and nodded softly to himself. I sat again and swung my legs over the edge of the couch, standing and walking over to the stereo. The speaker wasn't thudding softly anymore. My song was over. James tapped my shoulder and I turned as he handed me a large package wrapped in twine. I read the bit of paper attached to it.

_Get well soon Al. _

I took the parcel and scaled the steps back up to my room, letting Duke follow me up, plopping down on my bed. Julie was sitting there, perched on my headboard, note in beak. I bounded to her, snatching up the parchment and patting her feathers. Unfolding the note quickly I read the sloppy handwriting. It wasn't from Scorpius. I glanced down at the signature. _Miss you, Wood. _I was relieved at first, I couldn't take hearing from the blonde, but I also felt a bit disappointed; he'd forgotten. Scanning my eyes back to the top of the page, I read.

_Hey Al._

_ I'm so sorry. How are you feeling? I heard about what happened, and I'm just glad you're alive. Really Albus, I miss you so much. Are you going to be coming back to school like normal, or are your parents going to hold you hostage at home? Either way, you're set to play Quidditch right? You better be, because our team stinks enough already. We need you. Let me know when I can see you. _

_Miss you,_

_ Wood_

_ P.S. Stay alive. You're my best friend you know. I need you. _

I sighed and tossed the letter on my bed, picking up the package I'd dumped there earlier. Tearing open the brown wrapping, I smiled as all sorts of sweets poured out along with a few items from my uncle's joke shop. A snackbox of pranks, a bluish potion, tons and tons of Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs. Popping a sweet into my mouth, I lay back and sighed, clutching Duke tight to my chest.

I'd only come remotely close to loving someone once. She was a redhead, with long hair and a sweet smile. We were both in the third grade. She kissed me on the cheek and I kissed back, and before I knew it, we were linking pinkies and walking around the yard. She didn't know I was a wizard, and we were broken up in less than a week, because she wasn't ready to "commit to a relationship". She was beautiful, and I guess I loved her. Maybe not. I don't know. But Scorpius- in a dream... was just too bizarre. I couldn't handle it. How could I have even thought of him like… I was not right. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and tried to clear my head. I wiped it off, a clean slate, and fell into a state of non-thinking.


End file.
